


Always

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [36]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Jealous Jaime Lannister, Pining, Smut, and more - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Renly ditches Brienne at the altar, it is up to Jaime to comfort herChapter 2 added. Also, note the change in rating.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 24
Kudos: 138





	1. The wedding that wasn't

For weeks, he had been dreading this day, and now, here it was.

The wedding. _Her_ wedding.

His best friend stood at the altar, smiling and radiant with bliss, all set to marry the man she loved— the man Jaime could never bring himself to approve of. But he sat there, nevertheless, smiling outwardly, presenting a joyous picture to the crowd.

Inside, he was burning. Nursing an ache that had been begun the day Brienne had thrust her giant diamond ring under his nose. He had been constantly trying to console himself, telling his restless mind that he was perfectly okay with this, that she would be happy with Renly. He participated, even, in the wedding preparations like a good friend would, giving her no hint of the storm raging inside him. 

But now—when the Septon began the proceedings, he found himself drifting. Why did he not tell her when there was still time? Why didn’t he—

“I object!”

Jolted out of his musings by the shocking interruption, a momentary hush around the hall followed by busy murmurs that went about the guests, Jaime returned to the ceremony.

“You’re the groom,” the Septon gently pointed out, stunned, though he was, by Renly's interjection. “The objection part is for the others who might want to stand against your union.”

“I—” Jaime noticed his eyes flicker to the first row, a blink-and-you-may-miss look at Loras Tyrell which, while it might have escaped a casual observer, failed to get past his attention. “I object,” he repeated, standing his ground. “I can’t go ahead with this marriage.”

Rushing out of his seat, Jaime hurried to the wench. “Brienne—”

“Get out of my way, Jaime.” And with a stony look in her eyes, she was gone in a flash—out of there before he or anyone else could follow her. 

Renly was still hovering where he was, fiddling with his watch, face ghost-white. 

And Jaime was boiling.

He marched up to Renly and dragged him away from the crowd to one corner. “Why?” It took him a lot of self-restraint to keep his voice to a polite volume. “This was supposed to be the best day of your life, bringing you together with the most wonderful woman in this world, the one you love—”

“I don’t love her.” Renly swallowed, looking queasy, eyes darting to the exit every few seconds. “I thought I did but—” 

“You did when you asked her to be your bride.” Mixed emotions washed over him—rage that the woman he cared for had been so cruelly jilted at the altar, but at the same time, there was a tiny bit of positivity rising within him—a small part of him that couldn’t help feeling that she’d been saved from carrying the burden of a bad decision. 

“I made a mistake,” he dully gave up. “I chased the wrong woman—person.”

“You should have at least had the decency to tell her instead of slapping her in the face like this,” Jaime blasted away, fingers itching to grab the man’s collar and shake him out of this nonsense.

“What are you complaining about anyway?” Renly leaned, tilting his face closer. “All this has worked out to your advantage, hasn’t it? You call her friend to the face, but you can’t keep the fact hidden that you’ve been lusting after her—”

“It’s not just lust,” Jaime seethed, struggling to keep his anger, his feelings for Brienne and the urgent need to salvage this situation under check. “Unlike you, I do actually love her.” So right, it felt, the words just tumbling out of him. “And I am ready to do anything for her.”

“Tell her then,” Renly demanded, reckless and emotionless, then backed away from him. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Leaving him stunned and staring after him, he stormed towards the exit, gone, disregarding the guests whispering behind his back, caring for nothing and no one, leaving the others to sort it out and pick up the pieces. Numbed, Jaime stood there, trying to process the concerns voiced around him, while at the same time, wondering how to console her.

“She needs you now.”

Grim and in the same state of shock, Sansa and Tyrion approached him.

“Tell her in the best way you can, Jaime,” Sansa said, and Tyrion nodded in agreement. “And I don’t just mean conveying Renly’s feeble apology for an apology.”

+++++ 

After countless attempts at knocking, she opened the door. 

“We need to talk, wench.”

That she didn’t make an attempt to shut down the conversation before they could even begin was a good sign. She disappeared into the room, an indication for him to do the same. Jaime noticed that while she had changed out of her wedding gown into a comfortable pair of shorts and tees, casual as always, as if the last few hours had not happened at all, the pain was there in her eyes.

“I just came to make sure you’re okay,” he whispered, gently touching her on the arm when they’d settled down on the sofa. 

She drew in a deep breath. “I'm not interested in hearing why.”

“And I'm not here to explain.” Shifting closer, Jaime draped an arm around her shoulders, absorbing the mild shiver that ran through her body. “He’s not worth it, Brienne—”

“Maybe I’m not worth a man’s affections,” she croaked, hunching forward, her twitching lips and continuous blinking telling him her emotions were ripping her apart. “Maybe I—”

“Oh, come on.” He pulled her into an embrace. “You’re worth the world, you know that?”

“If I were, my fiance wouldn’t abandon me seconds before the ceremony, leaving me embarrassed in front of a hundred people—”

“That’s on him. Not you.” Releasing her, he reached for her hands and looked deep into those lovely eyes. “The world is not going to end because he rejected you. There are others—”

“Others?” Blue pools, doubt and disbelief, pain and anger and so much more in them, caught his. “Who others?”

_Me. I love you._

“Friends, for instance.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. Much as he was burning to pour his heart out to her, now was not the time. “I think you’re worth a hundred of him, wench—” he paused to reconsider “—thousand, probably. And maybe—” he smiled wistfully “—sometime soon you’ll meet someone who loves you far more than the pretty boy.”

That brought a slight smile to her lips and she draped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, wench.” He held her, the weight of her body, the warmth of her breath on his skin, the scent of her wafting up his nostrils and more, leaving him with a new ray of hope. “Always.”

She exhaled heavily. “Always?”

He nodded, combing gentle fingers through her hair. “Always.”

They stayed like that—Brienne, slowly beginning to calm down as his body absorbed the tension in hers, her stress thawing away with every passing breath she took, and Jaime, soothing her with gentle caresses to her back and kisses, so subtle and soft that she couldn’t make out, to her head. 

“This honeymoon you’ve planned,” he started, after he’d given her some time. “I think you should go on with it—”

She drew away, surprised. “By myself?”

“Why not? You need some time away from all this, a break. Treat it like the vacation you haven’t had for a while.” 

She looked down at her hands, pondering his suggestion.

“Trust me,” he coaxed, rubbing her knee in encouragement. “It’ll help.”

She fiddled with the edge of the cushion for a moment, then looked up at him, a spark of determination and the urge to bounce back to normal in her eyes. “Come with me, Jaime.”

His hand froze on her leg, the idea suddenly, both, awkward and too good to be true. “It’s your honeymoon—” he tried not to picture himself in place of Renly, of the numerous things he’d dreamed of doing to her “—I can’t.”

The hope on her face turned into a frown. “You just told me it’s a vacation—”

“It is—” he countered himself, flustered and confused at this unexpected turn of events. “I just—”

“You told me you’d do anything for me.” She covered his hand with hers. “Maybe I do want to go out instead of pining for the one who cared a damn about me.” She blinked again. “Maybe I do need a man who loves me more than Renly. And—” her eyes began to moisten, melting him down with their enchanting tenderness “—I know I need a friend who would stay with me and hold my hand.”

And Jaime, aching to do that and so much more, took her in his arms again, words, except one, failing him. “Always.” 


	2. The honeymoon that was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is - the conclusion

This was supposed to be the first night of her honeymoon.

Far away, lost in the realm of fantasy and desire and love and lust, Brienne had expected herself to be, not sprawled alone on a king size bed in a bridal suite. This was going to be the night of her life, one she’d been meaning to record in her mind forever, her husband—

Her mind took a pause.

_Husband._

Then it took a spiralling turn in an entirely different direction, taking her back to the visit Jaime had paid her to comfort her. Oddly, the heartbreak she’d anticipated didn’t hit her that badly. The moments she’d spent confining herself behind closed doors soon after the fateful rejection had awakened her to the truth, which, instead of alarming her, had filled her with warmth and comfort.

Just like the melting look in those gorgeous green eyes.

 _Anything for you,_ he had said, with a fondness she’d never heard in Renly’s voice.

_Always._

_Yes, always,_ she agreed, recalling their day well spent. 

They’d gone around the city, gone dancing, partied the evening away before rounding it up with a sumptuous dinner and choicest wine. Everything she’d planned with Renly, she did with Jaime on the first day of her honeymoon.

Except for ending the glorious day with fucking the night away until she was sore. Instead of crashing into bed with her lover, she’d thanked her friend for a lovely day and bid him good night before he retired to his room. He had kissed her cheek, his unexpected move leaving her heart and much more, fluttering. He’d squeezed her hand just like he had yesterday, and she was left craving for more of his touch, for him to— 

Unbidden, her hand crept between her legs when she closed her eyes and pictured herself naked with—

 _Always._ It kept coming back to her, haunting her, those green eyes, the way he’d touched her, held her—

 _Fuck, I want him._

Her eyes darting to the dildo lying beside her, she plunged in a finger. She rubbed and stroked her clit, imagining it was his hand pleasuring her, his lips on hers, his body pinning her down and pounding her senseless.

_I need him._

More than to hold his hand, more than just a shoulder to cry on. Her hand shaking, she grabbed the fake dick and teased herself with its edge. “Yes,” she moaned, pressing her thighs together, “I do, I love—”

A bolt of awakening hit her, leaving her shaken—it was not just her realization but also her phone which chose that very instant to beep with a text. **“If you’re awake, open the door, wench. I’m right outside.”**

Her heart jumping up, she sprang out of bed to let him in.

“I didn’t want to ring the bell and wake you in case you were asleep.” He sounded breathy and restless. “I thought I might come over to have a word.”

“Come on in.”

Jaime shut the door, but instead of accompanying her inside, he lingered there. “What is it?” she asked, retracing her steps back to him.

“It’s past 2 a.m,” he stated, stepping closer, and from his breath, she could make out that he’d partaken of more of that wine since they’d retired to their rooms. 

“And you’ve been drinking,” she noted, bringing it up to him in the honest and open way she usually did. “Why?”

His eyes flickered down to her cleavage and stayed there for a few timeless seconds, and Brienne felt a spasm strangling up her cunt. “A little too revealing, isn’t it? Wedding night special?”

She couldn’t help a shiver when a fleeting vision of him ripping the sexy nightgown off her crossed her mind. “Yeah, since I paid for it, I thought I might as well wear it—” 

“Better to sleep in it than use it to seduce that cunt,” he shot back, every word laced with resentment. “Why aren’t you asleep, wench?” She noticed that while he was drunk, he still seemed quite sober, if that was even possible, not stuttering or swaying off track with his words. “Why—” He glanced around, his expression souring when his eyes fell on her bed. “Still missing Renly, huh?” he dryly remarked, taking in her sex toys with distaste. “If you can’t even try to get over him—”

“You sound quite jealous,” she couldn’t help pointing out, her heartbeat climbing up another few more rungs. 

“I do, don’t I?” He edged closer, the seductive scent of his cologne and something more, getting to her. “He never deserved you, wench. He—” 

“It’s not him I was missing,” she cut him, breathless and desperate to get it out to him. “Jaime, I—”

“What?” Eyes darkening, he advanced further, and she could make out every hair on his stubble. “If it wasn’t your lust for Renly that drove you to—”

Her mind clear and her choice, blatantly obvious, she reached out and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and kissed him. As soon as her lips touched his, she knew this was it. This was what she needed, what she hadn’t realized she’d wanted for ages. She heard his phone drop to the carpet when his arms went around her waist, one hand gliding up her back and into her hair, tugging at it, the other groping her ass.

“You,” she sighed, when he teased her with his tongue. Parting her lips, she tilted her head back to let him plunge deeper and explore.

He pulled away from the kiss to meet her gaze, his eyes blazing. “And I've always wanted you, wench” he murmured, then went back to kissing her passionately. The heat from his mouth scorched her, and she was drawn to him like an addict, feeling the pull of their desire as their kiss went to a level she’d never made it to before. He wrapped his arms tighter, pressing his body to hers, the moan slipping past her lips, adding heat to their sizzling intimacy. He lifted his mouth from hers and whispered in her ear, “Always.” 

_Yes, always._

He kissed his way down her face, and when he captured her lips again, her hand stayed fisted in his shirt, anchoring her to this moment. She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t do much except take in every bit of this amazing sensation. Her hips ground against his and she felt his hard cock through his jeans. 

“I’ve never been able to stand the thought of you and Renly,” he fiercely admitted, and sliding his hands down to her ass, he lifted her up as if she were weightless. “The day you agreed to marry him, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, wench.” He pulled her to his chest, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “When I saw you walk down the aisle—” Breathing heavily, he began to carry her to the bed. “When I came to meet you soon after I’d dealt with him, I—” His mouth was back on hers. “I can’t do without you, Brienne.” He kissed her again. “I want you—” More kisses followed, each as torrid as the previous. “I—”

“I’m yours,” she whispered, when he tossed her on the bed.

Still on his feet, he jerked his shirt off and her stomach did a little jump, the sight of his bare chest kissed with just the right smattering of hair reaching straight down to her cunt. Kneeling on the bed, she was about to take off her nightie, when he got there before her.

“Let me,” he rasped, then slid the straps down her shoulders, uncovering her like he was unwrapping a long-awaited gift. “You’re beautiful, wench.” She wriggled out of it, her breasts popping free of their confinement, and Jaime wasted no time cupping each in his hands, her head jerking back in bliss when his tongue flicked across one.

He kicked off his shoes and punctuated by whimpers and sighs and hungry slurps, the rest of his clothes along with her nightie found their way to the foot of the bed.

He sought her mouth again, kissing her deeply as he shoved her down with a roughness that ignited a new flame of lust inside her. She blurted out his name when she felt his knee nudging her thighs apart, and lay there, waiting, as he reached out a hand to caress her down there. Her body shuddered as his thumb pressed into her clit. She was already soaked by the time he slid a finger into her. He looked up at her, eyes burning brighter than before, and pushed away her pleasure accessories. “You won’t be needing these tonight, Brienne.”

She held his gaze as his body hovered over hers, just as needy, just as desperate. She felt his hand as he guided the head of his cock over her folds, moving gently back and forth, teasing the hell out of her. The ache was unbearable, and she needed him now. She raised her hips to meet his. “I know what I need tonight, Jaime.”

Hitting her with another blazing look, he swooped down on her, pinning her to the bed, his chest crushing her breasts, his hips pushing into hers. He thrust in deep and hard, shoving his cock all the way into her. His mouth took hers in a devouring kiss as he pulled out slowly, then pushed back in again, his hand grabbing whatever he could of her breast. _“Fuck,”_ she wanted to cry out, but her mouth imprisoned in his, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t moan, couldn’t scream.

Fuck, she could barely breathe!

Kiss after kiss, he was raining down upon her, and thrust after thrust, he was punishing her with, his tongue slipping in and out of her mouth with each slide of his cock.

He never slowed, never eased down the pressure even a bit, caressing her ass and hips, pinching and twiddling with her tits. She could feel him reach around, his hand between them, the base of his palm rubbing against her clit. _“Yes,”_ she wanted to moan, to egg him on, but another kiss, he landed on her lips, and all she could do was arch her back into him, demanding more of his cock inside her and his hand pleasuring her nub.

With each upward thrust, she was getting closer, growing more frantic for her orgasm, not wanting it, yet, wanting it. Wanting more. This man was going to be the death of her. And she wanted to keep dying over and over again. He circled and pressed into her swollen clit, his needy gasps filling her mouth, his groping fingers torturing her nipples. Her senses perked up to the extent of burning her down, and she was beginning to spasm, on the verge of a collapse, her breathing labored. 

His next thrust tossed her off the peak, and she came undone, for this was more than her body could take. A cry, he allowed her this time, as her climax hit her with the force of a thousand bolts of lightning.

But Jaime didn’t stop there. Just as she began to relax, he plunged in again with the maddening pace that blinded her, over and over, wild and deep. She was screaming in pleasure and he was growling in his, his hand squeezing harder on her breast, her orgasm so close that her body begged for release. 

Reaching between her legs, she pressed down his hand latched to her pussy. “I love you, Jaime,” she screamed, the heat of him, the spiralling collapse of her climax pushing her into voicing the truth, at last.

“Oh, wench,” he gasped, his thrusts beginning to falter as he moved his hand to her hips again, grabbing and pounding, going in one last time as he exploded inside her.

They fell back in a sweaty tangle. “Jaime—” 

“Always yours,” he panted, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you too, Brienne.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hope you liked the conclusion!


End file.
